By PJ Parrish
Mixed Breed Dog (Schnauzer-mix) raising bandaged paw with medical strips on its body
Good morning, crime dogs. I won’t be posting today. In fact, I am not typing this. I’m dictating. My husband is typing. Actually, he’s taking a break from yammering at me because I fell off my bike two days ago and sprained my wrist. He thinks an old fart like me shouldn’t be riding a bike, but shoot, you can’t curl up and die, right?
Anyway, I can’t type right now. And pickleball is out for a while cuz it’s my shooting paw. (leftie here). I feel a little foolish, because, get this — I wasn’t even moving at the time I fell. I had just pulled up to my favorite little watering hole here in town, Traverse City Whiskey Company. I go there to do my crosswords and partake of their cherry whiskey sours. I was dismounting the bike. I caught my foot on the crossbar (No, it’s not a boy-bike but I am very short and was careless). Down I went. At least it didn’t happen AFTER I had the whiskey sour — would have never heard the end of that one from the husband.
Whimper, whimper.
Here’s the warning. Live your life and if that means riding a bike at age 73, go for it. But don’t be stupid. Take your time. Watch what you’re doing. Wear a helmet. And here’s the big thing — if you fall, don’t stick out your arms to brace yourself.
What does this have to do with writing? Well, I can give you a tortured metaphor about trying to do more than you should if you’re getting long in the tooth. Like, don’t even think about starting a novel after age 60. Or don’t try to write something completely new after you’ve been doing one genre forever. Or don’t think you can’t try something challenging when the folks around you are telling you it’s too late.
Yeah, you might fall on your ass. So what? Get up and try again. By the way, the doctor told me that’s what I should have done — fall on my ass.
So mount up. Keep pedaling, keep moving forward, and feel that wind in your hair. If you have any left.
Peace out, guys. I will be back in two weeks.
Above a certain age, we should all wear “Furdloes,” modest sized toroidal foam headgear, perhaps festooned with Steampunk accessories–magnifiers, lamps, field glasses, warning lights, eye shades, and whatnot.
I’ve fallen twice in recent years, both times at church. Once on a stairway that had at the bottom, instead of a proper landing, another step about 2″ shorter than all the rest, but protruding beyond the handrail. My heel skidded out from under me and I went down to my right, landing on my shoulder, fortunately, with no damage. An elderly person could have left the planet from a fall like that.
This Easter, I landed on my keyster in the rain: another church, another stairway, this time the bottom step was coated in mold-slime that lubricated the wet, slip-resistant finish, sending a foot out from under me again. I landed partly on my dumpadeedus, partly on my leg with the foot tucked up behind it. That took several days and a doc-in-the-box visit to recover from. A geezer might have acquired an extra crack in their behind.
And, hey! Let’s be careful out there!
hunting and pecking here so exscuse typos and no caps or proper punctation. one of my pball friends about 76 wears some kind of rubber helmet thingie. We tease h;im that he gets radio free europe on it. the younguns don’t get the reference.
Landing on one’s behind is easier said than done… and cushier for some than others…
I don’t remember where I heard the advice to “roll with it” if you have the time and wherewithal to realize you’re going down…
I’ve tripped over unseen foot grabbers twice, both times in the late dusk blue hours – once over a root, and once over the axle of an abandoned, weed concealed, dinner bell (which I knew was there) – both times, without thinking, I tucked my arms to my chest and didn’t fight the fall, only realizing that I’d fallen after I’d reflexively rolled onto my back, found myself looking into the darkening trees, and taking account of what hurt. Both times I ended up with bruised, or maybe even slightly cracked, ribs where my elbow had absorbed – or served to transfer – all my weight to that specific point. Nothing to do for ’em except ease into lifting things, be careful bending over, and try not to laugh (too much). Sleeping was the real problem, and I ended up on the sofa, slightly inclined against the arm.
There are other equally embarrassing trips and tumbles, but I like to think I’m not as klutzy as that litany might suggest.
Speedy recovery, Ma’am… and a high five (with the good hand), to your other half for taking dictation…
thanx george. yeah, at pickleball we call that the quarterback roll. you just tuck and go with it. bests getting a concussion!
Hope you feel better soon!
My dad used to say I tripped over the lines in the crosswalks, so I feel your pain. Balance is one of the first things the doctors ask about as you age. So far, I’ve been relatively lucky, but on photo workshops in the field, my son used to have a poll as to whether it would be me or Anne who would suffer bodily harm. She’s stopped going on these trips due to health issues, so now I’m the red flagged client. (Only fell once in the Faroes, and it was more of a ‘misjudged the height/depth of the gully’ than a serious fall. The camera was OK. I blame it on progressive lenses.
Heal fast, Kris!
when i get back to florida in november i have resolved to go back to yoga classes for the balance. i had years and years of ballet classes so am doing pretty good there, but the body and inner ear needs reminding.
Wishing you a speedy recovery, Kris!
Aw, Kris, sorry for the pain and inconvenience. Several docs have told me, “Don’t fall.” I always retort, “Oh, shoot, you spoiled my plans. When I got up this morning, I thought gee, I want to fall down today.”
Like Terry, I fell a lot as a kid–permanent bandaids on both knees. My balance is actually better now than when I was younger b/c I use a balance ball and do zumba (not at the same time!). I’m often the oldest one in the zumba class which is kind of cool. I credit zumba with keeping me from several falls when I really should have gone down.
Hope you’re back on the bike and the pickleball court soon.
i have a bro in law who is over 80 and he still thinks he’s 20 when it comes to walking. he barrels ahead looking at whatever he fancies. he has fallen many many times and my husband age 79 has been nagging him to learn to walk defensively. doesn’t mean you have to shuffle like tim convey (the oldest man) on carol burnett show. just means being aware.
Aww, that sucks! As a veteran “faller” I can relate. It’s so irritating when doctors tell me “don’t fall” (and my husband’s standard “you need to be more careful.”). With a motor neuron disease that took my mobility and my balance at age 58, I’m a fall waiting to happen. The worst was breaking my hip while visiting my daughter for her 30th birthday in Virginia (I’m in Texas). I’d only be in her house a few hours went I hit the deck. In March 2020. The start of the pandemic. Isolated in hospital and rehab. My husband had a heck of a time getting to Virginia & getting us home w/the airline cancellations. But I agree w/your philosophy do everything you want to do for as long as you can. I didn’t write my first novel until I was 45 and I’ve published in 3 genres. Who knows what’s next? I can’t wait to find out!
geez…broken hip. my worst nightmare since that, along with wrists, is where my osteoporosis decided to hit me. luckily, i have strong legs, like a russian peasant. cool that you didn’t write your first novel until 45. best to you
Ouch, Kris! I broke my right wrist in 2003 in a car accident (my journey home was abruptly halted by a drunk driver and his van). My scaphoid bone was fractured when the air bag deployed. I now keep my hands at 9 and 3 rather than 10 and 2 on the steering wheel when driving.
I’m also guilty of starting novels after 60 and will continue to do so, despite the trouble I get myself in, and I jumped genre big time, going from science fiction/ fantasy to mystery. No regrets with writing novels or switching genres.
Heal up!
youre an inspiration. 🙂
About six years ago I damaged my left hand in the woodworking shop. I was lucky not to lose fingers. Facing several months of rehab, I got a Blue Yeti microphone, some dictation software (not the c**p Microsoft puts out) and trained myself to dictate story with punctuation (period). Not a fun ride, but I got a lot down I might have lost otherwise. If I’d kept at it, I might have aced up to 5,000 words/hour. It’s…different.
The Yeti is still in the cupboard–not my imaginary Yeti friend, the microphone! If I ever need it. Which is not in the plan, but when is it ever?
Get well fast, Kris–but not too fast.
i thought about dictation software but doc said i should heal fast, so i will just hunt and peck for now. frusttating since i spent all that time in typing class in high school!
Feel better! Us Old Farts take a bit longer to heal so take care of yourself.
Aww, Kris! Bummer…but you still put out an entertaining and encouraging post for us. And kudos to the mister for helping.
You’re not alone. Last year I fell off our front porch and face-planted in the gravel walkway. Dinged up pretty bad.
BUT…didn’t drop my favorite coffee cup!
Hope you’re back to full steam ahead soon. 🙂
you guys are cracking me up with all your stories. I thought you guys were a lot younger. 🙂
Sorry to hear about your injury, Kris. Hope you heal fast.
As a runner, I’ve tripped and fallen on uneven sidewalks several times. Fortunately, the results were just bruises and embarrassment, but no broken bones or sprains.
Your advice “Live your life … But don’t be stupid.” is right on target. I still run, but I don’t run on sidewalks anymore.
years ago, when i was still running fulltime, i took a bad fall on a gravel path in a park cuz i was fussing with my ipod. splat on my face and bumped my forehead. i didn’t black out but almost. two homeless gents on a park bench immediately came to my rescue and got my upright. foolishly, i drove home. didnt realize til couple days later i had mild concussion. I miss running, really do. now life is a long walk in the woods. I leave early and take the dogs. Five points to whoever gets the reference.
Dickinson??
indeed.
May you get healthy, stay strong, stay upright, and keep writing.
stay on the right side of the dirt, as well.
I feel for you. I quit riding my bike because there are no biking trails here and I have to ride in the street…not good when school buses whiz by at 50 mph on our little street not to mention people texting and driving. What I wouldn’t give for a nice pool to swim laps in.
I face-planted the concrete in February when I stopped to vacuum my car at a car wash and didn’t notice the concrete thingy in front of my car. No broken bones, but a beaut of a shiner (and I had a TV interview the next day). At least I didn’t have a concussion or brain bleed…hope you recover quickly!
I don’t own a bike in tallahasee where i live half the year…suicidal. i ride my bike only here in traverse city becuz we are blessed with a great bike/walking trail system that runs all over the city and many miles north and south, even along lake michigan with incredible vistas. i still have to venture onto bike lanes on roads at times so am very very vigilant. esp because the fudgies (tourists) don’t get the bike culture thing. it is against the law now in michigan to drive and have a phone even in your had but that doesnt stop the idiots.